Some call her Mother. The Mistress of this land
Her body hidden haunts wild places for man
Whose calloused raw hands worked nippled
Cairns to stand proud on mountains
Hunted, fought bloodily among heathered tresses
Ploughed deeply her fertile plains to feed
Warrior lords, foreign, crippled with greed.
In Her a sea smooth cave, that once sheltered Fintan.
Crabs with dead mens fingers, sought a womb watery grave.
To rebirth rebellion - Freedom and the marrow
Of Her Favour!
She walks still this land breathing out love and inspiration
To those who seek justice for all of her people.
© MRL 1/2/16
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An extremely interesting write! I love mythology and Mother seems awesome and not to be messed with :)) You have chosen your words so beautifully I read it a few times to drink it all in :)
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Rose, it is nice to be appreciated and by a fellow poet.
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